


Dreams in a Nightmare

by celticwanderer



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), SanSan - Fandom, san/san - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Forbidden, King's Landing, San/san - Freeform, Smut, gameofthrones - Freeform, redkeep, sansan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:48:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6678433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticwanderer/pseuds/celticwanderer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While imprisoned in the Red Keep, Sansa Stark has had continuous dreams about Joffrey's sworn shield. The ferocious Hound. One restless night, desperate to see him the man standing guard outside her door, she pretends to have a bad dream and he comes into her chambers to wake her, leading to them hiding their forbidden attraction to the outside world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!!! It's been a while, I know. As the show started, and my sansan obsession has returned, I had to get this remotely smutty story out before I continue working on my others. I've missed this community so much. Please comment and chat with me on my new tumblr.
> 
> www.tumblr.com/celtic-wanderer
> 
> Happy reading and updates coming soon. :) the goal is a few times a week. Enjoy!

She dreamt of him again...

She pressed her hand to her forehead wiping the beads of sweat and caught her breath. She was still in a world between dreams and reality. One where she was desperately trying to remember each and every detail before it slipped away forever.

A smell that reminded her of the ground after rain and wine. A deep voice so entranced with lust that it barely broke above a whisper against her neck. Eyes that roamed every inch of her nakedness. Hands that ravaged her so wildly it was as if the world was about to end and they needed to feel all of each other as quickly as possible. And those lips. Lips that spoke so cruelly to all but her. Lips she imagined would be harsh like his words, but instead only lingered above hers, and breathed her in before intensely claiming her mouth.

That was always when she woke up. She never dreamt what happened after that and it always left her breathless and let down.

Sansa climbed out of her bed and stepped onto the cold stone balcony. Being kept in King’s Landing, so close to the sea meant there was always a light breeze. It was just about the only thing Sansa could count on in this place. 

She seemed to be damp everywhere. Her white night gown clung to her porcelain skin. It was uncomfortable so she pulled it over her head. A blush crept across her cheeks. She was alone, and no one could see her from her tower, or golden cage as he called it. The man she dreamt of. Her blush carried her back inside her chamber where her blue eyes were drawn to the door. A line of golden light illuminated the space between the door and the ground. She bit her lip at the thought of the man who stood just on the other side.

"Sandor..." she whispered to herself. His name was so easy to say, and just the name alone made her heart beat fast. Gods...she sat down on her bed, naked, and let her night gown fall. 

These dreams had been tormenting her ever since he saved her from the riots in the streets of King’s Landing. The peasants were starved and driven to do horrible things because of their anger. Three men had chased Sansa and cornered her into a room. She knew what they meant to do to her, but they didn’t have the have the chance for the King’s ferocious Hound sliced them down like wood before Winter. 

It was not just the act of rescuing her. No. It was the fact that he had left the King’s side when he realized she wasn’t with the others, safely behind the castle walls. It it wasn’t for him coming back for her...Sansa shuddered at the thought.

Ever since then, even when she tried to thank him for his bravery and he snarled at her, looking at his face was no longer frightening.  
She was able to look past the burns he received as a child which covered the entire right side of his face, for his actions that day now defined how she saw him.  
He had always been kind to me, she realized, in his own way. He had tried to tell her the truth, hard as it was to hear. He had tried to spare her any more beatings from Meryn Trant, or mental torment from Cersei.

She had longed for a knight in shining armor, just like her stories, but now she could see the more dented and dull the armor, the braver the man. It was not a knight, fair of face, and taught the same courtesies as she whom Sansa desired, but the Hound. She could barely stand to be around him with out the desire to kiss him overwhelming her. 

The longer she sat on her bed and mused in silence, the colder she became. The sweat had now dried by itself and the night air caused goosebumps to appear on her bare arms and legs. She opened her wardrobe and wrapped a sheer lilac robe around her. She heard the shuffle of metal outside her door and halted in between her wardrobe and bed. It was him. The King’s loyal dog standing guard outside her door. She didn’t know which torture was worse. That which she received from Joffrey or this. Wanting a man who was just a few feet away. She couldn’t take it anymore. She had to see him. 

An idea grew like a Summer's flower. One she normally would’ve shoved away immediately in her right mind, but there was something about the night, the darkness, that made Sansa feel invincible. Mayhaps it was the wolf in her.

With a smile that couldn’t be contained, Sansa jumped into bed and pulled the blankets up to her waist. She took her hair out of it’s long plait and pulled her long auburn curls to one side. She pulled the sheer robe off her bare shoulder and laid down. Butterflies swarmed violently in her stomach but she knew she wanted to go ahead with her idea. She wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. She closed her eyes and tried to look comfortable and started to moan.

“No...” She started quietly at first. He voiced cracked a bit and she realized he wouldn’t be able to hear her. She cleared her throat and tried again, louder this time. “No!” She prayed he heard her. “Please, no!” She tried to sound as convincing as possible. The familiar sound of her door creaking open told her that her prayers had been answered. She moaned another “No. Dont!”

“Littlebird?” He rasped deeply, closing the door behind him. Gods his voice alone almost sent her over the edge. She continued to turn her head back and forth and arch her back. “Littlebird?” He tried again, concern radiating in his voice. She felt a hand lightly touch her shoulder and she slowly blinked her eyes open. The moonlight which seeped in through her balcony showed her how tall he towered over her. She sat up, clutching at her robe which hung off one shoulder. Excitement filled her veins, this felt like one of her dreams.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, trying to sound tired.

“You were having a nightmare.” He answered harshly. “I had to wake you before all of King’s Landing heard you.” 

She suddenly felt bad for lying to him. He once told her a hound will die for you but never lie to you. She didn’t want to be dishonest with him. "Thank you, ser” She said.

The Hound nodded. Before he turned away, she saw his gaze linger on her skin. No, she thought. Why is he leaving. I must make him stay. Just for a little while longer. Being near him was almost intoxicating. “I dreamt of you.” She blurted out.

He stopped dead in his tracks. “The Little Bird dreams of an old dog?”

“Yes.” Sansa admitted. This wasn’t a lie. She had dreamt of him many nights. Some less pleasant than others... “There was a battle. You were fighting and I was looking for you.” her voice shook. She had this dream the night he saved her from the riots and she didn’t like revisiting it. “When I found you, you were surrounded by men trying to kill you. You swung your sword, chopping them down like they were nothing, but there were too many.”

After the silent moments that followed, Sansa got the courage to look back up at him. His stormy eyes glistening with the moon’s reflection bore deep into her. Her breath caught in her throat. His raspy voice finally broke the silent spell. “You need not worry about me girl. I told you before, killing is the sweetest thing there is. If I’m to die fighting men, then be glad of it.” 

Completely forgetting her robe was sheer, Sansa tore the blankets from her body and stood. “How could you ask that of me?” She raged.

Sandor scoffed. “Don’t tell me now, after all that has happened you still carry enough tears to shed if Joffrey’s dog lay rotting in the dirt.” He mocked, stepping closer to her. “Don’t tell me, Little Bird, that you or anyone else would morn the loss of a man like me.”

He now stood so close she had to tilt her neck up to meet his gaze. “I would.” She whispered. 

His hand met her chin in the blink of an eye she didn’t have time to gasp. He looked her straight in the eyes. “Do not play with me, girl.” He growled. He let her go and stepped back as she caught her breath. “Haven’t I taught you anything? Care for no one but yourself, as I do, and you’ll survive.”

“You’re saying you don’t care for anyone but yourself?” She cried. “What about when Joffrey made me look at my father’s head on the spike? You knew what I was about to do and you stopped me. Or on his name day when I tried to save Ser Dontos? You agreed that it was bad luck to kill on that day. Or the riots?” Her cheeks burned red and her nipples peaked out of her robe. “You’re lying when you say that you don’t care! Even tonight. You heard me having a bad dream and you came to wake me.”

“So that I wouldn’t have to listen to your racket!”

“Is that the only reason?” She asked, her voice softening. “Do you know that the only time I’m able to fall asleep at all is when I know you’re the one guarding my door?” Sandor just starred at her. “Why else did you come in here, Sandor?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Did you want to see me too?”

She saw his eyes travel from her face to her chest, then down to her legs. With the moonlight behind her, he could see the outline of every beautiful curve she had. She was raised highborn. No one but her betrothed should look at her in such a way but she wanted him to. She wanted him to see all of her. Only him. She was to wed Joffrey soon. She was never to receive a kiss out of love or passion from him. She didn’t even want to touch him and couldn’t imagine it. Standing here in front of Sandor, a man she was so frightened of at first glance, she felt the way she imagined the maidens in the books and songs she loved so much did.

Not giving herself time to think, Sansa untied to wrap around her waist and opened her robe, letting the soft material fall to the floor in a puddle around her. His eyes didn’t leave hers though. He didn’t look at her breasts, the swell of her hips, or her long legs. Just her wide eyes. She trembled as a cool breeze came through her curtains. She wanted to cover herself, but she kept her arms at her side. She felt dizzy, and her lower stomach seemed to be tumbling inside of her.

He stepped closer to her, armor clanking with each stride. “Aye.” He breathed. “I want to see you, Sansa.” The way her name came off his tongue made her feel weak. She couldn’t remember him ever saying it. He brought his hand to cup the side of her face and grazed her bottom lip with his calloused thumb. “But I was not born to ever touch or see something as fine and rare as you.”

She was ready for him to kiss her, and she didn’t realize she was holding her breath until he knelt down on the floor and she exhaled loudly. She looked down at him, watching him pick her robe up off the floor, intending to wrap it around her.

“Please.” She whimpered. She looked down at him, feeling his breath on the front of her thigh. “Sandor...please.” 

She heard a quiet moan come from his lips. They touched the front of her thigh and she almost fainted at the feeling. He his lips caress her skin for a moment, before he felt her falling and caught her by the hips. She placed her hands on his shoulders to balance herself. His armored hands dug into her milky white skin and she almost cried out. She threw her head back and he felt her long curls against his fingers.

She felt his breath quicken as got to his knees and buried his face into her stomach.

“Gods...” She moaned. He was barely touching her and yet her skin felt like it was on fire. He stayed kneeling as if worshiping her. 

“This is a dream.” He moaned into her stomach.

She bent her knees and brought them to the floor with him. He held her face in his large hands, and she brought hers to his. She felt him tense at the feeling of her touching his scars, but she kept her hand there. She didn’t care about them. “If this is a dream lets never wake up.”

He looked into her eyes, and she saw the anger go away. It was as if he finally believed her. That she desired him above all others. He brought his face to hers. His lips lingered above hers and they breathed each other in before finally, their lips met. The kiss was soft at first but then it turned hard. They wrapped their arms around each other. Bodies pressed against bodies, hands roaming any place they could find. Their desperate breathing was the only sound in the quiet Keep that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter. :) I had so much fun writing this one. Comments make a writer's day! Happy reading. ❤️
> 
> www.tumblr.com/celtic-wanderer

Sansa wasn't concentrating at all the next day in court. She was seated next to Joffrey, and his lady mother nestled on his right. They were listening to a poor farmer beg for forgiveness. 

"Please, your grace." He cried. "I didn't mean to steal. I---I was just so hungry. And my children. They were near starving. The crops haven't been good this year. It's getting colder. Please, have mercy."

Mercy, Sansa thought, was the last thing Joffrey possessed. She pitied he man. His stench clouded the throne room. If he couldn't even bathe in the presence of the King, surely he was desperate. 

She didn't have to look at Joffrey to know he was sneering at the poor man. She hated the days that the castle opened their doors to the problems of the people, and was surprised Joffrey agreed to it. It was Cersei, the golden lioness, who thought it would be wise and help gain the love of the people again. Especially after the riots in the streets. Joffrey pushed the idea away at first but then realizing the fun he could have with these peasants look forward to the day when they'd come begging for help or mercy. 

It made her squirm in her seat, watching these people who had nothing beg. Her mother and father were never so cruel. The people of the North never even had to ask for help for Catelyn and Ned Stark saw to it that all their needs were met before they could want for anything. 

She looked past the man and met the eyes of the one she shared such intamite moments with the night before. Her cheeks burned red and she quickly looked away, not before seeing the small smile that appeared on his face. The Lannisters controlled her every move but they couldnot control her mind and she allowed it to wander freely. She gripped the ornate handle on her throne as she remembered the feeling of her naked body pressed against his armor mere hours ago. It was so cold it almost took what breath she had left out of her lungs. 

They kissed feverishly. Moaning each other's names as if it was the first time they were allowed to say them. In the company of no one but each other, they could give into their desires. 

For a moment after Sansa disrobed, she was afraid he did not want her. She thought she md made a terrible mistake, but was reassured with his touch. 

He growled into her neck and breathed her in. "Little bird." He whispered, and kissed the nape of her long neck. "Little bird." He travel down kissing her collarbone. She shivered at the feeling and trembled in his arms. He held her tighter. The breaks in his armed hands dug into her back painfully. "Little bird." He kissed the top of her breast but it wasn't as passionate as the others. She felt him hesitate, and fluttered her heavy lids open. He was starring at her, lust twinkling in his eyes. She knew he was still not entirely convinced. She brought her hand back up to his face and smiled. Not wanting her words to break the spell they were under. It was reassurance enough, for he lifted her up and spun her around so that she was facing the moonlight. He stood in front of her and just looked. The soft moonlight now allowing him to gaze upon all of her. Her pink nipples peaked out from her auburn curls as they rose up and down with each aching breath. Her milky white skin contrasted beautifully with the small patch of red hair that covered her most private and pleasurable place. 

He ran a hand through his hair, careful not to show more of his scars than he had to, unsure of what to do with the beauty that stood before him, like some sort of night nymph. 

"Seven hells." He groaned in that voice which drove her mad. He lifted her in his arms receiving a giggle before setting her down in the edge of her unmade bed. "Stop your chirping, Little Bird." He laughed before kissing her again. 

That now familiar feeling boiled in her lower stomach and she felt something wet between her legs. What is he doing to me, she wondered. He touched her arms, but it was not enough. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She broke their kiss and pressed her forehead against his, taking his large hands in her naked lap. She undid his armed hands and bracers, revealing his muscled forearms. She set the pieces on the bed next to her and touched his arms. The hair made the other wise hardness soft underneath her finger tips. 

He pushed her long hair back over her shoulders so that nothing was hiding her form. 

"I know your pretty songs, Little Bird. The one about the fool and his cunt." His breath was hot as he spoke in a hoarse voice against her neck. "This is not like that. We're playing a dangerous game. If anyone were to find you like this. With me..."

"Since I came here, I haven't had one moment of happiness." She started, closing her eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her shoulder. "I've come to learn that life isn't like the songs, and that I am not invincible. There is a war coming. I've heard them talk about Stannis. Am I not to give in to at least one moment of bliss in the horrible place when our fates rest with the Gods?" He looked up at her, seeing the concern radiate from her eyes. "Is the punishment for this really going to be so different from the treatment I already receive?"

"Don't speak like that, girl." He clutched her arm. "You know perfectly well it would be. Don't speak like you've given up."

"I haven't. I'm just being honest with myself. I have no say in my life here, except for right now." She said, tears filling her eyes. "This...you...are completely my choice."

"Why me?" He asked, something in his tone not wanting to know the answer. "You are a princess of the North who will be Queen someday. And I, an ugly dog---"

"Stop calling yourself that!" She scooted closer toward him. So much so that she had to open her legs in order to feel his breast plate against her chest. "That is not how I see you. Do you still see me as a silly bird chirping away?"

"The wolf in you has come out more and more. Though it angers me when you mouth off to Joffrey, a bigger part of me is proud." He hung his head low and let out a breath. "But since you flowered, I can barely look at you." After a few quiet moments, the beast kneeling between her legs spoke again. "You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on."

Sansa never imagined she would hear words so mesmerizing and true come from the Hound's mouth. She brought her hands to cup his face and arched her back into him, enveloping him in a deep, slow kiss. He brought his hands to her hips and pulled her closer against him. 

She gasped at the feeling of her womanhood against his armor. His hands were so large that his thumbs touched the coarse hair which covered her there. She was so overwhelmed with feelings in her heart and body that she wanted to howl at the moon that shone above them. 

"Gods, why must all this cover your body?" She cried, wanting to feel him. 

"So that I can protect you." He answered hoarsely, looking down at her womanhood touching his armor. 

Instinctively, Sansa started moving her hips in a circular motion against him. She exhaled loudly. 

"I would fight a thousand men for you." He admitted, watching her. 

"Sandor." She moaned. "What's happening to me?" She couldn't stop. She had never felt anything like this before. She moved faster and faster in a most unladylike way. He dug his hands into her and held her hips tightly against him. 

"Sandor." She moaned again, this time throwing her head back, continuing to move savagely. "Gods." She breathed. She could not stop. She could not think. "Sandor..." She repeated over and over. The feeling in her stomach made its way down to the place she was rubbing. 

She heard a moan escape his lips and looked at him. He was watching her in disbelief. His mouth twitched and he kept grabbing her tighter. Pulling her closer. Intensifying the feeling each time. 

"Sandor!" She cried out, unable to control the volume in which she called. He silenced her by being his lips to hers. She kept rubbing. He brought one hand to her lower back, keeping her hips pressed firmly against him, and the other to the back of her head. He tugged at her hair and kissed her now exposed neck. 

Sansa opened her eyes and could see the moon and the stars out of her balcony. She imagined no one else had ever felt like this, nor would they ever in all the time the stars existed. She closed her eyes and continued rubbing against him. Feeling his rough lips against her neck, and smelling his scent. Earth, sweat, dark wine and something that was entirely his own. He was her warrior and she his maiden. 

The feeling deep within her grew, and suddenly she couldn't occupy any thoughts in her mind. All went as dark as a starless night as her cries were muffled by Sandor's kiss. Her entire body shook against him and he held her close, breathing as hard as she. She continued slowly moving against him until she couldn't anymore. 

They stayed like that, clinging onto each other long after until the sky brought morning's pink glow into her chamber. 

"What do you think, my lady?" 

The question tore Sansa from her memories cand brought her back to the throne room where all eyes were on her. 

"I beg pardon, your grace?" She asked, carefully trying to control her shaking voice. 

"Should I cut off his right or left hand?" Joffrey's wormy lips asked her, as he comfortably shifted on the iron throne. 

Sansa took in the poor farmer before her, sweating and crying. She looked at the man standing guard behind him, remembering his words about her behaving more like a wolf. It inspired her. 

"Neither, your grace." She said coolly. 

"Neither?" Joffrey spat. 

"If he hands both of his hand, then it's one more able bodied man to work for you. Mayhaps the grounds need tending to? Or the stables need cleaning? Surely there is something."

To her surprise, Joffrey thought on it. He eyed the farmer. "Yes." He muttered. "You will assist the blacksmiths with their work. And any sons you might have."

"My eldest is only six, my King. And he is very ill."

"Then we'd better get him to work before the sickness takes him. My lady is so smart, is she not?" With the wave of a hand, the farmer was escorted out and the King stood. 

The loud shuffle of a unified bow filled the room. "I will see no more today." He announced. "I have to attend the small council." He turned to Sansa, took her hand and kissed it, starring at her with his beady eyes. 

Sansa wanted to vomit at his touch and didn't dare look up at Sandor whom she knew was watching. 

Sansa and Cersei stood. Sansa curtsied and came back up to see Cersei's crooked smirk. Her eyes lingered on Sansa for a moment too long. It frightened her. It was common knowledge Cersei was not faithful to the late King Robert. Some even speculated that she and her brother, the Kingslayer, laid together. Sansa didn't know for certain, but she knew the Queen regent had her secrets and prayed she didn't posses the ability to sniff out others. 

Tyrion, Cersei's other brother gave Sansa a genuine smile and with the lioness, followed closely behind Joffrey to the small council room. 

Sansa turned the opposite corner and headed to the Godswood. The further away from the bustling corridors she walked, the less she heard behind her. Only one constant sound remained and that was the footsteps of a single person. She smiled to herself and pretended to remain oblivious to the man following her. 

She walked past the stables and through the gardens, the combined scents of lavender, hyacinth, and roses calmed her. She picked one of the dark purple roses and continued to the Godswood. 

When she arrived, to her pleasure, saw no one else there. She made her way to the Weirwood tree when a hand grabbed her by the arms and pulled her in between a maze of tall, thick rose bushes. 

Her blue eyes met grey ones and instantly she felt weak. 

"You ran your mouth in there, girl." He rasped. 

"That man was going to lose one of his hands!" She protested. "I had to try and do something."

"Aye. Always so good." He mocked kindly and stepped closer. She held the purple rose she picked out in front of her. 

"For you." She bit her lip. 

"And why would I want a flower when there is something far more beautiful to be had in the gardens?" He asked, looking at her rosebud lips. 

They head footsteps and voices. Sandor shoved Sansa deeper in the maze of greenery until they were hidden completely. They stayed silent as the voices grew closer. Her heart was racing. From the possible of getting caught or being in such close proximity to Sandor she did not know. She looked up at him and found he was already starring at her. 

They moved their faces closer together until their lips touched. Both of them careful not to make a sound as the pair of voices passed the bushes. They stayed completely still. It wasn't until they couldn't hear the voices that they broke their kiss. 

"They'll be done with the meeting soon." Sandor swallowed hard. "I'd best get back."

"Come to my chamber tonight." Sansa whispered. 

"Aye, Little Bird." Sandor took the flower from her and shoved it in his breast plate. "As you wish." 

He took her hand and placed a kiss on it, leaving her with an entirely different feeling than when Joffrey did. He then left her, surrounded by wild flowers with the promise of a return by moon light.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the wonderful comments so far. It really make me smile. that writing, the thing that makes me feel productive and accomplished, is enjoyable to all of you. Please keep them coming . Hope you like this chapter. :) and that last episode of GoT AAAAAHHHH!!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> tumblr.com/celtic-wanderer

The day felt as long as the first of Summer. Each second seemed to pass by at a snail’s pace. Sansa wanted nothing more than to see the light turn into darkness so that she the castle went to sleep and her Hound came.

To her dismay, the Queen regent invited her to dine with her and Joffrey. It was not a nightly thing as of late, for war was coming to King’s Landing and Joffrey and Tyrion often ate later in the evening. Sansa’s hand maidens dressed her in a dark green gown with short beaded sleeves. It was one of the new gowns Joffrey had tailored for her, which in her opinion was too tight. She had to breathe in small breaths out of fear of bursting the bodice open. Her breasts spilled over slightly and rose and fell dramatically with each breath.

She braided the sides of her hair, tying them at the back of her head with an emerald, and left the rest cascading down to her waist. She looked in the mirror, and decided against a necklace. She liked the way her collarbone delicately lined her lower neck. A blush grew like blooming roses on her cheeks as she wondered of someone else might too.

There was a knock at the door and her heart jumped. Sandor sometimes escorted her, though she wasn’t sure if she could handle being alone with him. Especially before dining in the lion’s den.

Her hand maiden, Shae, who Sansa had grown close to opened her chamber door and stepped aside revealing a fully cloaked, Ser Meryn Trant. 

Sansa’s face fell. Not just because it wasn't Sandor, but Ser Meryn, who was the most eager of the Kingsguard to do Joffrey’s bidding and hurt her. Her body had recovered from many bruises and cuts caused by him.

He starred hungrily at her through arched eye brows. “My lady.” He extended her hand.

Shae looked at her sympathetically as Sansa mustered the courage of the Seven and took his arm.

“Will you please have a bath waiting for me when I return?” She asked her hand maiden.

“Of course, my lady.” Shae smiled and bowed, closing the door behind them.

Sansa was in no hurry to see her betrothed or his mother, but she quickened her pace for she did not want to be alone with   
Ser Meryn either. 

Please don’t speak to me, she repeated in her head over and over.  
“My lady looks rather nice tonight.” He started. “Turning into a woman now, I see.”

Sansa could see in her periphery that he was staring unapologetically at her chest. She remained silent and walked as quickly as her thin shoes would allow.

Angered by her lack of a response, Ser Meryn tugged harshly at her arm and pulled her close. “I paid the lady a compliment! No thank you in return? I thought you were raised to have manners.” He snarled at her. The stench of ale fresh on his breath felt like poison stinging her nostrils.

“Please, ser!” She struggled to break free of his grip. “Let go of me!”

“Not until I get my thank you.” He laughed.

His words angered her. He had caused her so much pain and she knew if she gave into his game he might leave her alone, but with the new found fire Sandor ignited within her, she couldn’t allow herself to be bullied any longer. “Shall it be you or me who tells the King why I’m late?” She spat back at him. 

He slapped her across the face, but before she could open her eyes she felt a rush of a breeze in front of her. She blinked open and once the blurriness from her tears subsided, she saw Sandor had him pinned against the wall, dagger to his throat.

“Think it’s funny, do you?” He growled. “To hit a young lady?”

Meryn scoffed. “Since when does the Hound defend anyone but himself?” 

Sandor pressed the dagger deeper into Meryn’s throat. “Do not touch her again, unless you want me to tell the King that you put your hands all over his bride.” Sandor let go of Meryn and he fell to the floor gasping for air, hand on his throat. “We both know he doesn’t like that unless it’s on his command.”

Sandor sheathed his dagger and started past Sansa. She took one last look at Ser Meryn, struggling to stand and hurried after Sandor. 

As soon as they were out of sight, Sandor pulled Sansa into a crevasse in the walls that only two people could fit in. Her heart raced as she though he meant to kiss her.

Once they were out of sight, he stopped and placed his fingers underneath her chin, examining her flushed face. “Are you alright, Little bird?” He asked softly. Sansa nodded. He sighed in relief, but it was short lived as he leaned in closer and gripped her upper arm. “Don’t go running your mouth like that again.” He rasped.

“But...” She started, baffled. “He was being cruel.”

“Aye, the world is cruel.” He turned, showing off the burned side of his face. “It’s unfair. You have to be smart about it.” He warned. “If I hadn’t come to look for you...”

Sansa couldn’t believe he used his scarred face to teach her a lesson. It used to frighten her yes. It was shocking, but she barely even saw it when she looked at him now. After he told her the story of Gregor, she had nothing but pity for him, which in time turned into something else. Something far greater than anything she had never felt for anyone else. The fact that he did that made her feel as though he still didn’t truly trust that she didn’t care about his scars. Did he think so little of her?

She shrugged him away, tears stinging her eyes for the second time in a matter of minutes. He grabbed her face this time, forcing her to look at him. When she met his eyes, she saw they were filled with rage and desperation. “I can only take so much of watching people treat you this way before I break and kill them.”

She stayed silent. 

Her cheek started to burn where Meryn had slapped her, she touched it tenderly. Sandor took her wrist and pulled it away from her face. He brought his lips so close to her own that they touched her cheeks as they moved with his words. “Don’t do that again, Little Bird.” He whispered. She shook at the feeling of his hot breath against her cheeks and lips. “Please.”

A soft moan escaped her mouth. She didn’t realize she was now grabbing onto his armed waist. She nodded. “I won’t.” She opened her eyes, his mere inches from hers. “I promise.”

She wanted to kiss him, but knew she couldn’t go into the dining hall red faced and flushed, it seemed Sandor thought the same because he pulled away from her and straightened, taking her breath with him. He left the crevasse in the walls and looked around, making sure it was safe. She waited until he turned around and offered his hand. “Come on now, Little Bird.”

They let go of each other just before approaching the large guarded doors to the dining hall where Sansa was greeted by a candle lite room. A soft wind blew in from the open balconies and contrasted nicely with the warmth of the candle light. Cersei, Joffrey and young Tommen sat around the table. Cersei, already drinking her wine, a carafe resting on the table in front of her was already almost empty. Tommen look eagerly at his food, and Joffrey glared at her, picking at his thumb nail.

Sansa stood at the head of the table and curtsied. “My apologies for my tardiness, my lord.” Sandor’s heavy footsteps echoed in the room until he seized, and took his place against the wall behind Joffrey.

Joffrey looked her up and down, and seeming pleased with her appearance, motioned for her to sit. “I’m glad to see you’ve taken such a liking to these dresses, my lady. They suit you well.”

His words made her skin crawl. “Thank you, my lord.” She politely said as she sat.

“There, Tommen, you may finally begin to fatten yourself even more so.” He laughed.

Cersei looked up at Joffrey, but didn’t dare tell him not to tease his younger brother. Instead, she held her goblet out and a skittish man filled it with more red wine. 

Poor Tommen, who had a forkful of potatoes, slide them off his fork and slumped his shoulders.

Sansa never spoke to her younger brothers like that and couldn’t imagine ever purposely trying to hurt them. She ate a mouthful of potatoes, hoping that would make Tommen feel better.

All heads from the table shot up as a tardy, Ser Meryn stumbled in. 

“What kept you, Meryn?” Joffrey asked.

“Forgive me, my lord.” He started. "I had to see to a brawl between two of your soldiers."

That seemed to be good enough for Joffrey. "Very well." He nodded. 

The dinner went as expected. Cersei and Joffrey made their quips at Sansa. She didn’t mind though, for she knew no true harm could come to her with Sandor Clegane standing guard. Joffrey though he was there for him, but Sansa felt as though his title was the King’s sworn shield. She looked up at him in between bites, and found he was already looking at her. She blushed and immediately looked away, trying to suppress her smile. 

“What are you smiling at, Little Dove?” Cersei cooed from across the table. 

“Sansa swallowed dryly and cleared her throat. “Nothing, your grace. The food is divine this evening, that’s all.”

Cersei smirked at her. “Isn’t it always?” She persisted.

Sansa nodded. “Yes, your grace. It is.” Knowing Cersei’s game, she prayed her tone was believable. Like a true lioness she liked to toy with her prey before attacking.

“She won’t be smiling for long, will she mother?” Joffrey smiled. “As you know, it’s only a matter of time before Stannis comes. We have the upper hand in numbers and it being a home battle, the landscape. We will of course defeat him.”

I pray everyday you won’t, Sansa thought. 

“It’s only a matter of time before your brother hears about our victory and comes here himself.” Joffrey leaned in closer to Sansa. “And I will take great pleasure in you watching me cut him down.”

Though Sansa was used to the verbal torment her betrothed put her through, she still felt sick any time he brought her family into it. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure, my lord.” She replied with dead eyes, hoping he would be pleased enough to stop. Looking at his thin build, Sansa couldn’t imagine him possessing the strength to fight Robb. She Couldn’t believe she ever found him handsome. Her eyes once again rested on the man who stood behind Joffrey. Stoic expression on his face, hand resting on the handle of his long sword. A man who’s presence demanded attention and fear. He was magnetic. Electric.

She kept her emotions under control and once the King grew bored of her, excused her from the table. She bowed to him, and his lady mother. 

“Meryn, take her back to her chambers.” He ordered.

To Sansa’s dismay, Meryn followed her out of the dining hall, but not before she exchanged a glance with Sandor. He penetrated her gaze, and no words needed to be said. Some how in the silent exchange she was able to tell him not to worry about Ser Meryn, and he that he’ll be sneaking to her chambers later in the night. 

She was nervous to be left alone with him again, but the walk was quiet and Meryn kept his distance. She reminded herself to thank Sandor later, and breathed a sigh of relief as they approached her chamber door, but as she reached to open it 

“You’ve made a friend, my lady. Come the night of the battle, I’ll be sure you’re left with none.”

Sansa did not turn around. She opened the door quickly and slammed it shut behind her only to be met by her hand maidens starring wide eyed at her, buckets in hand. The tub that sat near her vanity was almost full. 

“If,” Sansa cleared her throat, trying to rid her voice of it’s shakiness. “If I might be alone please.”

Two of her hand maidens bowed and left the chamber. Only Shae lingered behind, letting flower petals fall out of her hand and into the tub. She too her time, and Sansa’s desperation to be alone started to subside as she watched the petals fall onto the water and slowly swirl around each other. The natural scents of rose and lavender filled the room and Sansa felt hypnotized. She imagined Shae was putting some sort of a spell over her the way she hummed melodically. 

“Are you alright, my lady?” Shae asked.

Sansa wasn’t sure how long they shared the silence together, and nodded quickly. “Yes, thank you.”

Shae waltzed over to her. Her hips swayed in such a way that Sansa only saw with whores. Knowing the purposely moved their hips dramatically. But on Shae, it looked so effortless and natural. She wished she possessed such a confidence. 

Shae bowed before her and looked up with a twinkle in her eye. “Have a good night, my lady.” 

Sansa’s brows furrowed and a terrible feeling made it’s way around her. Did Shae know something. “Shae, did you...?” She didn’t know how to ask this. If she was wrong, she could be giving away the secret that was sure to get her killed. “Did...”

Shae took Sansa’s hands in her own. “It would give me great joy to see you smile.” She started. “I am no one’s spy.”

Sansa smiled back. Shae had always been kind to her, and though it had been hard for Sansa to trust people here, she suddenly felt bad she didn’t trust Shae sooner. She wrapped her arms around her and embraced her tightly.  
“Thank you, Shae.”

Finally alone, Sansa looked at the enticing water and disrobed. She took her hair out of its braided and slowly submerged herself into the warm water, almost moaning at the feeling. She washed herself, humming the song Shae was. She lathered soap in her hands and ran her fingers through her long red curls, the flowery scent calming her. After rinsing her locks, she laid her head against the edge of the tub. Her mind began to wander to the many threats she received this night. Having Meryn slap her, Joffrey delight in the thought of killing her brother, Meryn’s threat against Sandor, the coming battle that was like a dark cloud over each day. No, she shook her head. I don’t want to think of this. I’m so exhausted constantly fearing for my life. She inhaled a gulp of air and sunk down beneath the water. I am leaving these thoughts down here, she thought, just for the night. She stayed down there as long as she could manage before breaking the water’s surface and gasping for air. She wiped the water from her eyes. Flower petals covered her hair.

When she blinked her eyes open, she noticed something in the corner of the room. She covered quickly covered herself and gasped. There he was. Sandor Clegane, standing in the shadows, ever watching, as he always had. 

It was as if her wish had come true. The thoughts of the day were left to drown under the soapy water, and ecstasy was waiting for her above. She slowly removed her hand from her breasts, letting the cool night air harden her pink nipples. 

Sandor’s grey eyes darkened with lust. Sandor removed the purple flower Sansa had given him earlier from his breast plate and played with it in his hands. “Why is it, that I always fond you surrounded by flowers?” He asked, voice like gravel. It seemed to send a chill through the room as the candle flames flickered. “Is it because you were supposed to be one?” He started toward her. “Were you meant to live under the sun, and live among others that share your beauty?” He knelt down next to the tub and looked intently at the flower in is hand. 

Sansa’s breathed caught in her throat. She silently pleaded for him to kiss her. To feel his lips against hers once again, Gods...

“No.” He let the flower fall into the water, the steam grazed past her upper thigh and she shuddered at the light touch. “Your beauty was not meant to be admired in a bunch with other flowers. It is unlike any other.” He began tearing the petals from the purple flower and tossing them into the tub. “And you do not fall apart so easily, Little Bird.”

He finally looked at her, and she at him. Her naked bosom heaving with each breath. She saw his mouth twitch and wanted to kiss that part of him. The imperfect part with the tragic beginning. She rose out of the tub onto her knees, Sandor remained on the other side. Her breasts perked up, nipples touching his armor. She leaned in and kissed the burned side of his mouth. He shuddered under her lips. She continued kissing the rough, scarred side of his face, giving love to his Twisted blackened flesh. 

“I was not meant to be a flower.” She whispered, bringing her lips back to his. “For if I was a flower, how could I kiss you?” She wrapped her arms around him and melted into him. She felt his hands around her naked, wet waist as he pulled her closer. The tub keeping their lower bodies separate from each other. 

“If you were a flower, I would pick you from the ground.” He said in between kisses, lifting her out of the tub, throwing her onto the bed. She giggled until she crawled on top of her. “And I would plant you outside my window.” He kissed her again. And lifted himself on his forearm, gazing at her naked body. “So that only I could see you.”

Though she had been naked last night, it was dark and he could not fully see her. Tonight, however, candles filled her room with warm golden light and she was unaware of how her body looked to him. She brought her hands to cover her self.

“Why do you cover yourself, Little Bird?” He asked.

“I’m nervous.” She admitted. “Of what you think of me.”

“Did you not just hear me, girl?” He asked. “Do you not see the way I look at you?” His earnestness made Sansa removed her hands from herself, exposing her breasts and red curls that covered her womanhood. He drank in the sight of her. She couldn’t believe she was naked underneath the Hound. His strong body crushing her in the most pleasurable way. 

“Sandor.” She moaned. Exhilarated by the fact that the man she so desired though her so beautiful.

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Don’t sing your pretty songs, Little Bird. I can only take so much.” He kissed her again and grabbed a handful of her damp hair. He broke the kiss and picked one of the flower petals out of her curls. He placed it on the peak of her pink nipple. She let out a sigh, as his fingers barely touched her.

“Do you want to be plucked from the dirt, Little Bird.” 

“What?” She said, licking her lips.

“I’m going to take you from this place.” She starred up at Sandor, her blue eyes wide as the sun. 

“Sandor...”

“You heard them. Stannis is coming. Either he’ll win, or the Lannisters. Either way you’ll remain someone’s prisoner.”

Sansa could not believe what she was hearing. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked.

In an instant, tears spilled out of her eyes. She nodded. “Yes.” Her voice broke the gateway for sobs to come from her mouth. “Yes.”

Sandor grabbed her face and kissed her passionately. She arched into him. “No one will ever touch you again, or I’ll kill them.” He growled. 

Sansa started trying to undo his armor. She couldn’t take it. This man proved time and time again he was the only person she could trust here. She didn’t realize she was falling for him. This man, he was a true knight. Not the one she dreamt of. One better than that fantasy. He was real. He was hers.   
He stood and threw his armor on the floor, dark hair peaking out of his tunic. She panted as her hands finally explored the palce they so longer to. His muscled body was hard and warm. He removed his tunic, and she saw old wounds all over his torso. Bruises and scars. It was like a map to his past. She sat up on the edge of her bed and kissed each one. He grabbed her hair as she did.

“Little Bird...” She heard him whisper. “Sansa.” 

She stood, so her lips could reach the ones one his chest. She placed her hands on his shoulder and pressed herself against him as she kissed the scars. She could’ve fainted at the feeling of his warm skin against hers. Together they stood, him half naked and her completely. He lifted her face as he did earlier that night, and this time did as she desired. He claimed her mouth as their hands continued to explore the very places they weren’t allowed to travel.


End file.
